#yandere drabble

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unreality, eldritch!yandere, prolonged captivity, implied nsfw, and voyeurism.

You might’ve been the only one left.

If there was another living person in town, they were either too assimilated or too well hidden to find. Everyone else – the unliving, the possessed, the altered – had that glassy sheen over their eyes, that thoughtless smile painted over their lips, that sense of connected omniscience that meant you could walk into a café you’d never visited before and the beaming barista would already know your name, your order, and your mother’s address. There were no strangers anymore, not really, no differentiation between your closest friend and your coldest acquaintance. Everyone knew everything, especially about you.

You still went to work, for some reason. There wasn’t really a point. What few responsibilities you had as a professional pencil pusher dried up months ago, leaving you in a state of white-collar limbo. Occasionally, you’d get an email, but the message was always disjointed and nonsensical, like filler text in a bad office simulator game. Sometimes, your phone would ring, but there’d only ever be heavy breathing and the muffled sound of wet flesh hitting stone on the other side. After a while, you stopped answering.

Your boss would stop by your cubicle, make small talk over lukewarm coffee. He was the attractive, older type – all grey-streaked hair and tailored suits. He used to hate you. You couldn’t remember when he change his mind.

“We’re grabbing a round of drinks on the company card tonight,” he explained. “To celebrate the end of another tough week.”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“It’s the least I could do. You’re such a hard worker, (Y/n).”

You glanced up from the sticky note you were currently folding into a paper crane. This would be your forty-seventh attempt. “I am?”

He laughed as if you’d said the funniest thing in the world and rested a hand on your arm, leaning in a little too close for comfort. “So, you’re coming?”

“I’d rather gauge my own eyes out.”

“Sounds like a date.” He squeezed your shoulder before drawing back. “We’ll be waiting.”

You didn’t go. You would stop coming in a few days later, but the phone calls followed you home.

Not that ‘home’ had ever meant safety. The infection had seeped into the architecture, gotten control of the roots. There were swaths of days where you didn’t – couldn’t – leave, every door disappearing and every window sealing itself shut, trapping you in. Others, it almost seemed to force you out – every wall suddenly glass and every door hanging open despite your best attempts to keep them closed. You’d find a fully stocked fridge suddenly empty, or every word of your favorite paperback abruptly replaced with encouraging messages to stretch your legs, get fresh air, go outside. Once, you even tried to leave town altogether. Your car broke down after the first mile, so you walked in an endlessly straight line, never turning, never looking back, never stopping. Somehow, you found yourself on your own doorstep, door open wide as if welcoming you back.

You spent that night on your lawn, sobbing into the grass while your neighbors formed a uniform circle around you, watching. Guarding. Smiling.

Things devolved quickly. You tried your hand at burning down a local bookstore, but the clerk stood beside you all the while, snuffing out every match you managed to light. You poured yourself drinks at up-town bars and slept in velvet-lined booths, never so much as attempting to pay your tab. You skinny-dipped in a mall fountain during peak hours, bathing under cheap plastic skylights and harsh fluorescents. No one paid you a second glance. There were no kids in town anymore, and everyone seemed to glow with a sort of unnatural, off-putting beauty. Like they were grooming themselves to your preferences. Like the town was preening itself to better capture your attention.

You sat in the corner of an old-fashioned diner, staring silently at the table while a handful of other customers pretend to talk amongst themselves around you - the inflections familiar but the words gibberish. Thirty minutes passed before a waitress wandered over, notebook in hand and smile wide enough to strain. “What can I get for you, darlin’?”

“I want to leave.”

“Afraid that’s not on the menu.”

“Then tell what you want. Why you’re keeping me here.”

“Coming right up, sugar.”

A silver platter too nice to be in a place like this was brought to your table. A golden wedding band stood solitary one side and, on the other, bridal lingerie, nearly folded and white as a dove.

Your stomach dropped. You considered getting up, going home, but that wouldn’t have made a difference. You were surrounded, cornered, imprisoned.

And eventually, you would have to reckon with the needs of your warden.

[bananastarlo]

Warning: NSFW!

Thinking about nerdy yandere who is more than willing to help you study for your next exam. You invite him over since you think he’ll be easy to take advantage of. After all, his shy demeanor and nerdy interests don’t faze you at all.

What you don’t expect is how easily his patience snaps.

“Please, try to at least follow what I’m saying — are you even listening?”

Now he’s inside of you, trying to at least get you to do something right.

“That’s wrong,” he grunts, slowing his pace and abandoning your pussy as you whimper and tremble in need. “Come on, baby, just like I taught you.”

You grind yourself against him, mind foggy from how many times he’s denied your orgasm when you didn’t know the answer to his stupid questions.

As you stutter out the answer he’s waiting for, he captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, shoving his tongue into your throat and igniting a burning ache in your tummy, the pool of arousal beneath you only growing.

And without warning, you feel his throbbing dick pumping back into you, filling you up perfectly as he begins to mercilessly pound into you. His sweaty body slaps against your own, combined with his loud moans, filling the room with the lewdest and most erotic sounds you’ve ever heard in your life.

“Tell me what you need. Tell me you need me, that you won’t ever need another man because I can make you feel so good. Ugh, f-fuck!”

His voice cracks as his eyes roll back, forehead glistening with sweat. He feels your cunt clench around him as you come undone under him, body shivering, waiting for him to cum too.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, feeling his own orgasm approaching at the sight of you completely disheveled.

You’re already overstimulated by the time he thrusts deep inside of you for the last time.

You can’t think straight anymore, but he makes sure to push his thick, heavy load inside you. When he finally pulls out and you’re still dripping, he drops to his knees in front of you, licking and cleaning up the mess you two made. You gasp. Looking down, seeing him like this, gazing up at you with that hunger in his eyes, makes you mewl in feverish delight.

“Look at you… being so obedient after all. You liked that, hm?”

All you can do is lazily nod, earning a cocky grin.

“Next time I visit,” he breathes against your skin, “you better have all the answers ready — so I can make you feel even better, yeah?”

[yanfluffery]

Student!Reader giving Platonic Yan!Sensei!Izuku a gift for Father’s Day owwwhhhhwhh

You were only doing it as a joke, since he wasn’t your real father. But he took care of you and your classmates like he was. You picked out a silly card and some candy you knew he liked. Along with an All Might pen, to add to his ever growing collection of merchandise. You spent yesterday afternoon figuring out what to write on the card, even asking some of your friends. Until you settled on something simple yet sweet.

“Hm? What’s this?” Izuku raised a brow as you handed him a small gift bag. Was there some sort of special occasion he forgot about, or were you simply just being nice? Whatever your reasoning he took it with a smile and a thank you. Opening it up to see a card that had ‘Happy Father’s Day!’ on it. His expression morphs to show his surprise and confusion.

Before he could even ask what this was about you cheered happily with a laugh. “Happy Father’s Day, Sensei!”

Despite himself he could feel his heart pounding. He completely forgot that it was Father’s Day. His head was running a mile a second, overthinking what you meant as a gag gift. Did you really think of him as such, as a father? You have no clue what you’re doing to him with this don’t you? God, he was resisting the urge to hold you tight and never put you back down. Even if his arms began to cramp he would endure it. But he resisted, reminding himself that would be completely inappropriate.

So in reality he smiled at you, setting the gift aside on his desk to pat you on the head. His voice enveloped with a tenderness that only you could bring out of him. “Thank you, [name], I love it.”

That gift became his prized possession. He used that pen every chance he got. Never letting anyone else use it in fear that they’d take it, or worse, break it. You bought it for him, not anyone else, just him. The card sits on his desk in his teacher dorm. He rereads the message you wrote every once and a while. It makes his heart flutter to think about the thought you put into it. That you even cared enough to write something at all.

You're such a sweet thing, and if you thought about him as a father he was happy to be just that.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere who breaks into your home and just won't leave.

Tw. Stalking, Yandere, nsfw themes, blackmail

You came back one day from work, tired as hell, only to find some strange man sitting on your couch with some boxes scattered around him. You threatened to call the cops, to scream and get him out, but he remained strangely calm if not a little boyishly eager.

"H-heh, I knew you'd be kind of upset. Don't worry, I already paid your rent for the next few months. T-took a bit of time to scrape together, but you're worth it babe."

When you then persisted on throwing him out, he simply took out a folder with shaking hands and showed you a mile wide stack of compromising photos that he'd somehow taken while you were completely unaware.

"Don't worry. I won't release them unless you make me."

So now you lived with your stalker now turned roommate.

It was strange. You couldn't kick him out, so you were forced to tolerate him. At first, you thought you could just wait until he left so you could hastily change the locks, but he just never left. He worked on his computer saying he had a remote job, and all of the groceries were delivered to the door. You didn't even have a chance to try and stop him.

He would creep his way into your bed at night, cook you breakfast, and act like nothing was wrong.

Yandere who likes to take photos of you openly now.

He snaps his camera at you while you brush your teeth or put on shoes. Every angle of you has been painstakingly catalogued and printed out in the albums now scattered on every table. He especially liked having pictures of the two of you together.

"Hehe, I used to have to edit myself in..."

You really didn't like mulling over what that could've possibly meant, so you just chose to gloss over it.

Yandere who likes to bathe and pamper you. It's so domestic that it's almost sickening. He makes homemade soaps to lather your skin in, and he's not half bad at making scrubs either. He learns how to do your hair in every style you like, and if you like getting your nails done, he learns that too. You asked him if it was to help save you money, but his reply was... less than ideal.

"I just don't want anyone else to touch you," He said sheepishly as he stashed the strands of your hair to use for god knows what.

Yandere who doesn't stop you from going out and living your life, but the second you get home, he's all over you. he's like your second skin, and even though you try to push him off, he just keeps nuzzling into your neck and practically humping your leg.

"C'mon! I was so good today... I cleaned and everything! At least kiss me!"

He becomes more and more comfortable in your apartment, and you slowly start to live with it as well. After all, a clean home, good food, rent paid and he pampers you like crazy: It's not exactly the worst deal in the world. Plus, he hasn't actually made any moves on you yet. No, most days he sits there smiling at you with a dopey grin and an obvious, untouched bulge in his sweatpants. He never touches himself around you, so at least he had the decency to not do that.

All in all, he's not the worst thing that could've broken into your home. Sure, it's not what you'd ever have wanted, but your starting to grow fond of this strange intruder. After all, it's hard to not be just a little bit endeared when he's snuggling up close and seeking your warmth like it was the only thing on the planet that mattered.

[syrupyuu]

‘𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐀’

ft. m!yandere nekomata x gn reader

𝐂𝐖: unedited. contains yandere themes (obsessive and possessive behavior), implied stalking(?), emotional manipulation, you're an unreliable narrator, mild horror/supernatural elements, possibly unsettling depictions of affection and devotion, gaslighting-adjacent undertones, sleep deprivation, psychological distress, etc.

𝐀/𝐍: tysm to everyone who's been supporting my stuff these past few days!! i tried to write a bit differently with this fic, so i hope y'all don't mind the slight change in writing style. that said, i hope you'll enjoy my word womit ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ ask me about his lore. i dare you.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐈𝐍 like smoke through a half-opened window—vague and soft, yet pressuring and unrelenting as they fill your lungs with each breath you force yourself to take.

You don't quite remember when they began—the dreams that seep into waking like rot into fruit.

At first they were just… noise. Static, in the back of your head. Easy to blame it on the usual stuff—school, stress, maybe dehydration or whatever. It made sense. Kind of. A normal response, right? Something sleep was supposed to fix.

But sleep didn’t fix it. Even when you slept longer. Or deeper. (If you slept at all.) You never felt rested. Not really.

You went to bed tired and woke up worse. No matter how many hours you clawed back, it wasn't enough. Eventually, you stopped feeling like yourself.

And the dreams..

No—nightmares, you tried to say. But even that word feels wrong now. Nightmares are chaotic. Absurd. Fragmented. Even the worst of them don’t linger like this. They don’t repeat endlessly, or follow you through the day like the scent of spoiled food clinging to your clothes.

Not when they’re this vivid. Not when your sanity’s fraying at the edges and you start to wonder if you’re actually going mad.

It isn’t just fear anymore—not the kind that dies with morning light or the kind to be reasoned away. You feel it when you wake. How your limbs hesitate. How your breath catches in your throat like your body’s bracing for impact, even though you’re safe in bed.

Then, there's the touch.

Velvet claws trace down your spine—slow and careful. almost tender, Like a predator petting prey.

You hate that.

You never mention the whispers, voices that hum beneath the silence like slow, syrup-slick lullabies. Too low to make out, but always there. Gentle. Constant. Suffocating. The murmurs never rise beyond a hush, but they crowd your head until you're drowning in it—devotion so cloying you can't breathe.

And always, without fail, those eyes. His eyes.

Burning gold. Twin pupils that stare without blinking. Cat-split gaze sharp enough to cut.

You see them in dreams, yes—but more and more, you're catching glimpses elsewhere. Reflections. Windowpanes. The sheen of your phone screen at midnight. Always there, hovering at the edge of your vision.

And still, you try to tell yourself it's just your imagination. Stress. Sleep deprivation. A trick of the light.

But your body doesn't believe you.

Your hands shake. Your shoulders stay tense. You flinch when nothing's there. You move like you're being watched—because deep down, you're certain you are.

You can't remember the last time sleep meant rest. The last time you didn't wake up drenched in sweat, lungs tight, throat raw from a scream you never made. The last time your thoughts felt like your own.

At some point, you stopped calling it a nightmare.

Because nightmares end.

This doesn't.

...

—A sharp jolt hits your neck.

You awake to the phantom sensation of a hand on your shoulder. Too real, too warm.

Then, the clatter of a pen.

When your eyes snap open, you're greeted by the familiar sight of a college classroom—buzzing white light overhead, rows of plastic chairs and indistinct faces—none of them his—and your professor's muffled lecture from far across the room.

"Wh—huh?"

You blink. Your throat is uncomfortably dry, and your heartbeat thunders endlessly in your ears.

Again. That same wretched dream.

"..hey, you okay?" the voice beside you cuts through the haze—gentle, and edged with concern.

But there's something about it that cuts you the wrong way; something too soft. Too careful. Dauntingly familiar in a way you can't place. A voice you've heard before, maybe in a passing, maybe-

Your breath catches. For a heartbeat too long, the classroom feels unreal. Your eyes dart towards the source in seconds, expecting—

Gold. You brace for gold.

Instead, you meet a pair of eyes so human it stuns you—deep brown, earthy and soft, in a way gold never is.

The breath you were holding slips from your lungs, a shaky sort of relief like a knot in your chest you didn't know was there has finally, quietly come undone.

You hate that you're relieved. That someone else, anyone else, is here to tether you back to the mundane.

...but you're safe. At least for now.

You try to smile and say something polite—anything—but your lips only twitch halfway into shape, and when you open your mouth, no words come.

Because that's when your eyes properly settle on him—and suddenly, everything else turns into static.

Why hadn't you noticed him before?

He's— god. He's handsome. Not in the clean, billboard-model kind of way, but something quieter. Softer. A kind of boyish, late-morning charm you never thought you'd see out of a movie.

He looks like he's always just gotten out of bed, hair still a little damp from a shower, ruffled at the crown. Freckles dust the tops of his cheeks—barely there, like sunspots trying not to be seen. And there's a dimple, just the faintest shadow of it that threatens to peak through each time he even thinks of smiling.

You only realize you've been staring when his face turns pink.

"Sorry." you blurt, heat rising to your cheeks as it clicks—he must've been the one who woke you.

That in turn, only seemed to intensify your classmate's blush.

"Ah—no. It's okay." he quickly splutters, offering you a faint smile—lopsided, unsure—and turns back to his notes.

You nod bashfully.

You don't speak after that, and neither does he.

The lecture drones on, every word from the professor drifting past your ears like static. You try to anchor yourself on anything. The subtle scrape of mechanical pens against paper. The soft cough three seats before you. A chair creaking. Someone shifting in their seat.

Hell, even that god-awful tick of the wall clock. Sharp, rhythmic, and endless.

Tick—tick—tick.

Seconds ooze past like sweat down your back. The air feels thick. Your body? Sluggish. You blink hard a few times, trying to clear out the fog in your mind—all to no avail.

Just once, you glance sideways. He's still there, hunched slightly over his notebook and tapping his pen in slow intervals against the margin. He doesn't really seem to be writing down what your professor is saying—rather, it's more like he's absentmindedly fiddling with the closest object to his hand.

It's not distracting exactly, but it makes it harder to stay in your own head... though for someone like yourself, you guess that's a good thing.

You retract your gaze, just as it seems like he'll catch on to your staring, again.

The next moments pass in a blur. Time stretches, unfolds and warps itself. When the bell finally rings, it's almost a shock—as though someone yanked the plug from your ears.

The world rushes back in all at once. Chairs screech against linoleum as the class begins to empty—students filing out in half-mumbled conversations, bags slung over shoulders, sneakers squeaking toward the door.

You don't move right away.

You just sit there for a while longer, letting the noise pass over you, around you. Like water around a stone. Your fingers press into your temples, then slide down to rub at your eyes, knuckling the grit from your lashes.

The light still feels too bright.

Your head still feels too far away from your body.

Footsteps pass. Someone sneezes. Someone else laughs.

"—Still tired?"

You jump.

There he is—standing beside your desk, backpack slung over one shoulder, hoodie sleeve pushed slightly up one forearm. The fabric bunches awkwardly near the elbow, like he’d rolled it absentmindedly.

His other hand fidgets with the edge of a notebook, thumb pressed into the spiral binding. His expression is sheepish, brows lifted in tentative concern—but his eyes are steady on you.

It startles you regardless.

You freeze, blinking a few times before coming back to your senses and trying for a half-hearted smile. "Guess so. Sorry, I.. haven't been sleeping well."

He winces—just slightly, like your answer confirmed something he already suspected. "Yeah, I can tell." he says, then immediately falters. "I mean—not like that, not in a mean way—I just, uh—you kind of looked out of it earlier."

A beat passes. Then you laugh, soft and tired. The sound surprised you.

When were you last so at ease with another person?

"It's fine." you say, lips curling, "I get what you mean."

He chuckles under his breath, a quiet puff of air, and seems to hesitate. His mouth opens—then closes again. You think he’s going to leave. Instead, he shifts his weight, nudging his shoulder against his bag, and holds out a hand—half a second too late to feel casual.

"I'm Kotetsu, by the way." A pause. "Uhm, just Kotetsu."

Without thinking, you find yourself reaching out to him. His hand is warmer than you expected. Warm. Steady.

"Nice to meet you," you reply, and the words feel strange on your tongue. "I'm.."

You hesitate again. Your own name flits through your mind like a loose scrap of paper; worn and wrinkled from overuse. It almost doesn't feel like it belongs to you anymore.

You give it anyway, and he nods when you do.

...like he already knew.

You've been seeing him everywhere lately.

Only campus, at first—somehow always within a few feet. He’d wave when your eyes met across the quad, sit near you in the library like it was the most natural thing in the world. Other times, you'd find him waiting by the vending machines or brushing past you outside the lecture hall, as if your schedules had just magically aligned.

At first, you thought it was just coincidence. A fluke. The same way you always seem to run into the same three people at the grocery store, or end up behind the same guy in line at the registrar. It’s a big campus—but not that big. You told yourself that once. Twice. A dozen times.

But then it started happening outside campus, too.

Once at the corner café you never told anyone you liked. Another time at the pharmacy down the block, when you were too tired to do more than blink at him in surprise. He’d just smiled, offered a casual 'hey!' like nothing was strange at all.

Before you knew it, he'd inserted himself into your life like it's as natural as breathing.

Maybe that’s what made it harder to notice at first, how seamless it all felt.

No grand declarations, no heavy pressure; just a gentle, persistent gravity. You feel as if you're caught in a tide that only kept inching closer each day—until your whole torso's already wet because you didn't realize sooner you've stepped into the ocean.

You never meant for this to happen. You never agreed to it.

But your feet just happen to move in the same direction as his after class, and your breaks just happen to overlap. —And when he texts (of course he has your number now), you find yourself replying before you even read what he wrote.

There are moments when you wonder if you should set a boundary. Say something. Ask how he keeps showing up in places you never mentioned. But those thoughts feel heavy. Too heavy for how easy he makes everything else feel.

Why?

Because oftentimes, your find that—no, you don't mind his presence.

Kotetsu has a very subtle way of drilling himself into your life like he’s always been there. He remembers little things. Your favorite drink order, down to the extra shot. The song you hum when you’re anxious. The way your right foot bounces when you’re thinking too hard. You can’t recall ever telling him these things, exactly—but that’s easy enough to explain. You must have mentioned them in passing. Slipped up during conversation.

It happens.

Besides, he listens. He’s attentive, sweet in a quiet sort of way. The kind of person who keeps extra tissues in his bag just in case, who offers you half of his sandwich if you forget to pack lunch. Who walks you to class when the sky’s starting to rain.

And you like having him around.

You do.

It’s not just about comfort—though that’s part of it. It’s in the small things. The familiar weight of him at your side. The way his voice feels like static wrapped in warmth when the world gets too loud. How he always seems to notice when your shoulders tense or when you start biting your nails again.

You didn’t ask for any of it, but you never really tell him to stop, either.

Maybe that’s on you.

And maybe—just maybe—it’s because you’ve started to rely on it. On him.

He looks at you like you’re a snowflake balanced on his palm; something fleeting he's trying not to crush by holding too tight. There's something frightening in that kind of tenderness—but there's comfort too. And god, haven’t you earned that? After everything?

You don’t question it much anymore. Not the way his gaze lingers too long. Not the way he always shows up right when you need him, even when you haven’t said a word. Not the way it’s getting harder to imagine your days without him in them.

In the end, the dreams—the nightmares, you remind yourself, even if the word doesn't quite fit anymore—are gone.

They just stopped. Quietly. No fanfare. Nothing.

No more cold sweats. No more waking up with your heart lodged in your throat. No more days where you feel like a prisoner inside your own body.

Instead, you sleep. Like really sleep.

And you wake up not with dread, but with breath in your lungs. Steady. Unburdened.

Some mornings, you forget what it felt like to be scared. Some mornings, you even catch yourself smiling.

You don’t want to think too hard about why. About how easily that terror vanished once Kotetsu entered your life.

You don’t want to ask questions.

Not when things finally feel good again. Safe. Not when your skin isn’t crawling. Not when your mind is your own.

Because after everything—

Isn’t that what matters?

Isn’t that enough?

You want to believe it is.

14:11 - kotetsu: hey 14:12 - kotetsu: feel like hanging out? 14:12 - kotetsu: i can meet you at that cafe you like. 14:13 - kotetsu: the one on 4th.

14:15 - you: oh 14:15 - you: sure 14:15 - you: be there in 10?

14:16 - kotetsu: k

He stares at your message too long, even though your response was expected.

Well—anticipated, really... but of course you said yes, you always do. Still, there's something about seeing it that makes the corners of his mouth twitch upward, something like a purr low in his chest that doesn't quite reach his throat.

His blush darkens.

You chose him. Again. Thank goodness.

The phone glows faint in his hand before dimming, its soft buzz telling of your confirmation still echoing somewhere deeper than his ears. Kotetsu lowers it slowly into his pocket, his fingers subconsciously brushing over the case once, like trying to feel you through the electronic device.

The branch beneath him sways slightly with the breeze, but he remains perfectly still—balanced, relaxed, perched like he belongs there.

High above the street, his legs tucked beneath him, one tail draped lazily over the bark while the other curls and uncurls in idle motion, restless in a way his body isn"t.

Kotetsu's hoodie shifts as he exhales, and just barely, the tip of one ear twitches under the fabric.

It’s quiet up here. The city noise filters in muted, far away, as though he's separated from it by something more than just height. He can see the café from here, the one you always choose. The same little table by the window. Always that seat facing the corner. Always the same way you stir your drink—clockwise, three times, then sip. You don't even realize you do it, but he’s memorized the pattern, just like he’s memorized everything else.

Kotetsu's gaze drifts downward to the street.

You're not there yet. You said ten minutes, and you’re punctual. You always are. But even if you weren’t—it would be fine. He would wait. He has waited. Centuries, actually.

The thought doesn’t weigh on him the way it used to.

He stopped counting the years a long time ago. It’s not bitterness anymore—rather, resolve. You’re here now, in this life. You’ve come back to him. Your soul remembers the way, even if your mind doesn't. That’s what matters.

He leans back and stretches, arms reaching overhead in a smooth, almost lazy movement.

For a moment, his balance sways, hoodie slipping just enough to reveal a sliver of dark fur; revealing the sleek line of a cat tail that flicks lazily and rhythmically, while the other curls around his ankle like an oversized anklet. His claws extend without thought, digging straight into the bark beneath him—quiet and precise. He breathes in. Your scent is on the wind already—so faint, but there.

Kotetsu closes his eyes and lets himself savor it as warmth flares low in chest.

Oh, how he's missed you.

His master. Hismasterhismasterhismasterhismasterhismast-

The words feel a bit strange in his mind now. Not because it doesn't fit, but because it fits too well; worn at the edges from centuries of use, but still heavy, still comforting—like a collar he's long grown into.

You still look the same, still sound the same.

You still gaze at him with the same fondness he'd done everything to be deserving of all that time ago.

...Even now, he still doesn't deserve you, does he?

That's why he has to be good. That's why he has to be perfect. That's why every moment he breathes besides you has to be earned, not just taken.

Because you chose him of your own will.

That’s the part that undoes him—not any vow or fate, or divine force pulling the thread between your souls tight.

No. It's just you—wholly, honestly, entirely you. You who decides, reaching across all that silence and ruin and giving him your presence like it meant nothing at all.

Like it was easy. Like it was safe.

That terrifies him, truthfully. The freedom of it, because it means you can leave. It means there's no weight anchoring you to him, no curse or promise to force you to stay—and if that’s true, if you’re free to go, then he’s just someone waiting to be left behind again. That thought lives in his chest like a splinter lodged too deep in a wound, and so he swears—quietly, reverently, that he won’t lose you.

He can't. Not after all this time.

Not after what he became.

Not after what he did just to be here again, in your orbit.

You'll never remember the worst of it: What he looked like at the end of your life.; how his body fell apart from grief like it was rejecting itself cell by cell.

You don’t remember the voice that called your name until it cracked and splintered into something animal, something that didn’t know how to stop even long after you were already gone.

Not the madness, the violence, or even faithless prayers he once spewed and clawed into stone with broken hands. Nothing.

So maybe that’s a mercy. Maybe this life spared you from remembering.

Even if that's the case—he'll still remember, always, every second of your dying breath like it was carved into the marrow of him, stitched into every soul he tore through just to see you alive again.

You still smile like sunlight through leaves after all, still hum under your breath when you're not thinking. His breath hitches when you do.

Even just that—it’s almost enough to fool himself into believing it never happened. That he never lost you. That this—your warmth, your voice, the tiny flick of your attention—isn’t borrowed time but the way things were always meant to be. But Kotetsu knows better, he always has.

This time, there won’t be another chance. If the world tries to take you again, it won’t get the chance to try twice. That's why he’ll wait. Quietly. He’ll serve and protect and watch and bleed; whatever it demands. It doesn't matter if it's for you.

But then—something shifts. A subtle change in the wind.

Your scent.

Familiar and irrefutable. It hits him like gravity. His eyes snap open before the thought can even form. His body reacts first, as it always does when you're close. Something in his chest tightens right then and there—not painfully, just… enough to ache. Enough to remind him of the present. Of you.

He doesn’t move at first; just stays still, half-lidded, resting in his perch—letting the moment settle around him like dusk.

One of his tails twitches on instinct, a lazy sway through the air before falling still. Then finally, in a motion so quiet it barely exists, he drops from the branch. The hem of his hoodie billows weightlessly underneath him, barely louder than the rustle of leaves.

In moments, he lands silently, feet touching the pavement with all the sound of a shadow falling.

No one notices then. Of course they don’t.

Why would they?

By then, the transformation is already complete. His feline features vanish with the last glint of his twin tails fading like smoke in dying light. The sharp outline of his ears soften into something more human, and his aureate eyes—the ones you say feel kind—are open again, now tinted several shades darker.

Human, gentle, this version of him.

It's one you recognize, one that fits into your world—this is the one he wears for you; tailored to your own comfort.

The same one he dons when he greets you at the door of the café, his smile easy and hands casually tucked into his pockets.

"Hey," Kotetsu grins, voice light, "took you long enough."

And maybe you laugh in response, maybe you roll your eyes at his jest and playfully bump his arm—it doesn't matter, because he watches you like you're a miracle, anyway.

You talk about your day. He nods, listens, offers a quiet quip here and there. But the truth is—he already knows how your day went. He always does. What he doesn’t know is how you’ll describe it. Which words you’ll use. What expressions you'll wear. And it’s that—the you of it all—that he’s obsessed with rediscovering each time.

He'll walk beside you, shoulder brushing yours as if by accident, gaze flicking sideways like he’s not memorizing every frame of you all over again. And when he opens the café door and gestures for you to enter first, there’s a flicker—barely a heartbeat long—where his smile stretches just a touch too wide.

That’s all it takes. Just a second too long, a fraction too sharp—and the truth behind his eyes almost slips through.

But you don’t notice.

And if you do, you never say.

You step inside, and he follows—naturally, inevitably—like a moth drawn to flame.

After all... all familiars never stray far from their masters

—not unless they're forced to,

and Kotetsu would never let it come to that. Not again.

[rexhya]

you havent been much of a maid these days.

"[Name]" he called tenderly, you groaned into tge comforter, cracking your eyes open to see the prince before you.

"Hmm?" you answered disoriented.

"I need you to do my hair, it's tangled."

"What ever do you m—" You cut yourself off, and looked around the room. This was not that maids quaters. You sat up from the too plush bed and swung your legs over it rapidly. you were still in your nights clothes, how had you ended up here?

anul looked confused, "what is it?" he asked innocently.

"i-my, I'm not supposed to be here." you said tip towing around the bed.

anul slithers his arms around you waist before you can move any further. "don't make me repeat myself."

you stop in your tracks, fear gripping your heart. "w-would you like a style?" you whisper.

anul beams, "yes please."

[n0rmal-cat]

Alien pet thoughts

[oh to be held safe and sound]

Alien leader who has a husband that is the embodiment of “dad who didn’t want dog”

He glares at his spouse and you while you cuddle together as they work.

“We don’t need a pet you know, we have enough to do already” he says crossing his arms. “But look how weak they are we can’t let them go” he just grumbles back.

Reader is kinda scared of him, one day they know he’s just gonna pick them up and throw them off the ship into the vacuum of space.

One day leader yan asks their husband to watch over reader for a while as they do work. Their husband reluctantly agrees saying “fine but don’t expect me to baby the damn thing”

Cue leader coming back to their husband dressing reader like the little model they are and pampering them with kisses as they squirm around in his arms.

“Honey you didn’t tell me the little thing was this cute~”

“Yes I did, multiple times in fact…dear they appear to be biting you”

“Don’t worry, I’ve learned that’s how humans express love”

“I don’t think…well at least you don’t look like you want to murder them anymore”

[occasional-yan-stuff]

Thanks to @femaleberd for the challenge

Idk what to call this one honestly? 2 yandere stalkers in the elevator X gender neutral reader I guess

Warnings: stalking, tight spaces, forced proximity but in a bad way, nonconsentual touching, unwarned touching, possessive behaviors, implied kidnapping

Details: yans are rivals, I have obviously never lived in an apartment building, yans are very different (one cold and calculating, one muscle man)

It's been a long day. A long long long day. If it were up to you, you'd never show up at that stupid office again, but money is money and it has to be made. You don't have to think about that right now though, all you need to think about is getting home to your apartment, flopping yourself down on the couch, and turning your brain off with some trash TV.

The first step of that process is actually getting home and to do that you need to get onto the elevator. You press the button next to the elevator and watch the doors slowly slide open. You stand inside for a moment after pressing the button to get onto your floor, expecting for the doors to close behind you and take you up all alone, but instead a man joins you. He appears from around a corner, which is strange because you don't remember anyone being there before.

He is tall and quiet, his black hair is slicked back and his suit is tailored. He must have a very good job. You wouldn't even acknowledge him beyond a simple nod if it wasn't for two small factors: first, you've never seen him in this building at all, an you feel like you would have known if someone new moved in. Second... he won't stop looking at you. No, not looking, staring. He's staring directly into your being with a sort of cold neutrality which feels... deeply unnatural.

He starts pressing the close door button rhythmically as if it will work. You are confused for only a moment before your ears register the echoing footsteps coming from the mostly empty lobby. Your eyes travel from the man's hand up to the source of the steps, another man. This one looks completely different from the first, but the same in that you've never seen him in this complex. He has broad shoulders and defined muscles, showing even from under his white tank top. He looks like he just got back from the gym and has messy blond hair.

He isn't so much running to the elevator as he is... power walking. Stomping? The point is that he makes it to the elevator just before the door closes and just as he enters, the doors slide shut. The first man glares at the second, who only smirks, wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you toward him. You can feel his muscles against his body. You can feel his warmth and smell his sweat. This would be kind of hot if this guy wasn't... a total stranger in a space that you're unable to exit.

"Hey," is all he says as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face with one of his big hands.

The other man is glancing between you and him. You aren't sure what you expect him to do. To save you maybe? That isn't what happens. What does happen is him reaching out and grabbing one of your wrists before snarling at the man embracing you, his mask slipping only a bit.

The elevator dings and the door slides open. It is only now that you realize neither man has pressed a button to go to any particular floor. You take a step to exit but the larger man only holds you closer and the one in the suit tightens his grip.

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!CEO x Reader

If you wanna know more about the levels, check out this post :)

Danger level: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡ ♡ ♡

Yandere!Ceo who does not care about his employees

Yandere!Ceo who is strict and cold, anyone not keeping up will be cut off

Yandere!Ceo who brings you to the verge of insanity

Yandere!Ceo who finally makes you snap

Yandere!Ceo who has a chill running down his spine when you pin him against his office's floor

Yandere!Ceo who's pulse is going erratic against the tip of the pen you pressed against his neck

Yandere!Ceo who's face start feeling hot, who is completely captivated by you on top of him

Yandere!Ceo who grabs your wrist and makes you push the pen harder against his neck, a whimper threatening to come out

Yandere!Ceo who promotes you to be his personal secretary

Yandere!Ceo who can't get enough of being your puppy <3

[dreamsdevelopment]

Emilio: My hands are cold.

M/C: Here, let me hold them.

Emilio: My lips are cold too.

M/C: *covers Emilio's mouth with their hand*

[myuserisunnamed]

can you write about sub yan trying to please daring? thank you!!!

sub! yandere who tries so so hard to make you happy with him, he just wants the reassurance of your love! and maybe a lock of your hair… and maybe a pair of your dirty underwear… and maybe- you know what nevermind, all that matters is that his love is pure, albeit mixed with lust.

he’ll do small things like give you lunch with a… special homemade sauce. or help you declutter your room, but small things go missing every so often. oh well, it should be in your room somewhere!

okay and maybe he did put some hidden cameras in your house… and maybe added an airtag to all of your bags… and maybe- you know what, you don’t need all the details. he just needs you so badly, it physically hurts whenever you don’t look at him.

“please my love, my darling, the reason i am alive, please look at me. did i do something wrong? are you mad at me? do i need to prove you my love by cutting a finger off? or maybe- maybe by killing that one co-worker who’s been annoying you, i know how much you hate them. or is it- is it me?! do you hate me?! i will end it all, and spell your name out with the blood of my throat if you so wish!” he says manically, pointing a sharpened kitchen knife to his throat.

and this happens every single day.

today, however, you had your own little experiment you wanted to conduct. and that experiment being not saying i love you back. who knew it would turn into this? it’s fine, he pulls out the knife every other month or so.

“can you stop yelling, you’re making my head hurt,” you say, rubbing your temples.

immediately he drops the knife, and goes to hug and baby you.

“oh my beloved, are you okay? i’m sorry my love, i didn’t mean to- to make your head hurt. forgive me, oh please forgive me,” he says, peppering your face with kisses.

he’s like a dog, obediently following your orders with his tail wagging of happiness behind him. tell him to do something as simple as cooking a meal, and he’ll do it with a smile. or do something as heinous as get rid of a few people, and he’ll do it with a manic grin.

[pancaake101]

yan! femboy ૮꒰/ฅ//ฅ//꒱ა

imp. notes!!: fem reader + masturbation mention

yan! femboy who met you when you, despite your lack of outgoing-ness, got accepted into the maid cafe! he thought you were the cutest little thing, how shy and kind you were. though the logic was lost on him on how someone as shy as you got into a maid cafe.

yan! femboy who didn’t immediately get absolutely infatuated with you, it was over time as he got to know you more when he realized he wanted you to himself. to him it came as a total surprise!! like yeah sure you're cute and your shyness definitely works in your favor but he never thought he'd like you like this, let alone obsessed with you!

yan! femboy who often made you stay back after closing the cafe for the night, he always said it's to 'mentor' you more and to get you more eased into being a maid at the cafe but really it was just to chat with you more and learn more about you. he wants to be wayyyy more than just a coworker to you ૮꒰/ฅ//ฅ//꒱ა

yan! femboy who sometimes finds himself sending glares to the customers for being so comfortable with you, they need to realize ur his, even if u dont know it yet urself :(

yan! femboy who often gets jealous of the customers who you get along with too well. don't get him wrong, he knows its part the job to be so sweet and understanding and to expect more comfortable customers conversating and being talkative with you but, goddammit, is the over joyous laughter and batting eyelashes necessary? you're never like that with him...

yan! femboy who sometimes would pick a customer he's particularly jealous of and accuse them of stuff like theft, being creepy, or just anything serious to get you to think lowly of them. he would then complain to management about the customer's behavior and eventually get them banned from the cafe— It always works considering it's a maid cafe and there's bound to be at least some weirdos

yan! femboy who finally made it to friend status with you! because he finally got you this way, he'd often invite you to his house (and hoped that you'd feel comfortable enough to invite him to yours!). if he's being honest, he never wanted to be at your house just for a sleepover. i mean, yeah, he wants to be near you all day, talk to you, and touch you but he moreso wants to be there to steal burrow your belongings. he'd be so honoured to take home one of your things!!

yan! femboy who often invites you over to his house, and when you're asleep he takes so many cute pictures of you!! its not creepy,, its just you look so adorable sleeping so soundly on his bed. he needs to cherish this moment and what better way to do that then yknow take a couple pics! (he jerks off to them sometimes)

yan! femboy who is so glad to have met you, hes not even sure as to how hes gone on in this world so long without you!! now, without you he sees no purpose. he is absolutely determined to make you his, even if it means playing dirty to get there

౨ৎ

[1cewhxre]

update : we now have a name for our cute yan! check out pt.2

⟢ yandere nerd who you met accidentally when your small figure collided with his broader torso in the hallway because you weren't carefully enough to see where you were going . . . silly little bunny.

⟢ yandere nerd who had a weird glint in his eyes as he looked down to see the fat tears swelling up at the corner of your eyes from embarrassment. thankfully, no one noticed how his lips curled into a small smirk as he excused himself.

⟢ yandere nerd who took a note of your cute face, just so he could spend that night relentlessly stalking you . . . after all, he's always been good at quenching his curiousity. it wasn't too much work to find out about someone like you, who was quite open on social media.

⟢ yandere nerd who's always graduating at the top of his class. he had his professors wrapped around his fingers. his peers feared him, some even admired his patience and dedication but he never cared about any of them, until a certain little bunny decided to catch his eyes.

⟢ yandere nerd who now had a new obsession to spend time on, besides his studies. but you'll always be far more interesting to study than those boring textbooks. he loves the way your chest rises and falls softly when you sleep or how cute you look when you puff up your cheeks in annoyance when you get a question wrong.

⟢ yandere nerd who was now enamoured with you, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on his perfect little bunny.

[casuallyanidiot]

Some more good Ole Yandere Nerd

Tw. Noncon/Dubcon, kidnapping, invasion of privacy, fisting, yandere

Yandere Nerd who fucks you so frequently in so many different ways that he jokingly starts to collect data on it.

"You've cum 23 times this week without penetration. We can definitely raise that by this time next!"

He keeps neatly color coordinated graphs and charts of the amount of times you'd had sex with him, how many times you came, what different types of toys and kinks you seemed to like the most, and more. He'd write thousand word research essays on the topic while fucking your face under the table. He'd look down through fogged glasses and make sure you'd swallow before he got the motivation to continue on for the next few pages.

It's almost impressive how well organized he keeps track of everything.

Yandere Nerd who explains what he's working on like he's talking to a dumb dog.

"You see, it's quite interesting to find that there's no significant difference between how much you cum from when I spank you versus no spanking when I play with your ass. I think we need to repeat this at least 30 times each to see if there's any further development."

You never imagined that dirty talk could be so dull. Though, he probably wasn't trying to turn you on using anything other than brute force, sheer, will, and a closet worth of sex toys.

Yandere Nerd who likes to stretch you out on increasingly bigger and bigger toys.

His cock definitely is not the size of his fucking arm, but it's not even about his pleasure at this point. He just likes seeing you all whiny and sobbing while begging him to take his fist out of your poor, abused hole. He won't listen at all! How mean :( . In fact, he'd probably measure how large your stretched out entrance gapes after every session and then time how long it would take for your quivering form to go somewhat back to normal.

Yandere Nerd while, mid fuck, suddenly decides to share the good news with you.

"The paper I wrote on you got accepted into a journal!"

How that fucking happened, you don't know, but all of a sudden detailed descriptions of how often you cum on a daily basis were suddenly up for anyone to see. You ended up crying when you read the journal, too humiliated to feel anything but anger and utter embarrassment. He rubs soothing circles into your back while trying to comfort you, but he's not exactly slick with the way he's pulling out his camera to record your reaction.

What!? This is valid data! Now if you're going to be the subject of further studies, then you have to be at least a little bit more cooperative with him, okay?

[rexhya]

yandere!prince who's 3 months way from becoming king, the citizens and palace have already begun preparing for his coronation.

yandere!prince whos more terrifying than his father, nobles bow before him like GOD, his dark violet eyes gleaming with power.

yandere!prince who's favorite word is obedience, so it's no surprise when you're accepted as his personal maid he revels in your compliance.

"[Name], stand. Now." You're in his chambers holding a bowl of grapes. (he insists you feed him)

you stand.

"spin." you spin.

"lift up your skirt." you blush, giving him an almost disgraced face. as his personal maid, you were treated better but he'd never been perverted. you should have known better.

you move to set the bowl of grapes down anyways, you'd rather be humiliated for a moment then disobey and be forced to the torture many servants were subjected to. it wouldn't be so bad anyways, you had a petticoat under and would only lift the first layer.

the prince moved before you could, a pleasant smile taking up his brown cheeks, "God you really are perfect. I was joking, m'lady." he layed back down on his red velvet couch, motioning with his hands for you to continue feeding him.

now you were even more confused, the prince nicknamed "iron of evil" was making a joke? (and what was m'lady about, you were quite literally a commoner) you set the ruffles back down and continue pricking the grapes from the vine and into his mouth, this was probably your least favorite task he requested you do.

not because it was hard but because the prince was completely different from how he presented himself to the public.

moaning and whimpering exaggeratedly as you fed him the fruit, the worst is when he licks at your fingers, even taking one into his mouth, pearly whiteness flicking around the digit.

he always seemed to be smiling around you, it was worse knowing how horrible he could be to others.

like that time a noble staying temporarily was caught trying to poison him, usually their sentence to death would be immediate no questions asked but this prince loved to play games.

it was in the throne room, two gaurds stood by the captive and the prince stood in front of him ( you standing silently by his side praying they wouldn't behead him in front of you ) .

and after staring at the man for almost ten minutes without saying a word, he turned to you.

"pick a number between 1 and 1,000"

you jumped, eyes flickering between the man and the prince, "don't look at him, look at me. number quickly." he graps your jaw within seconds. you gasp, there was no arguing with the prince.

you stared directly into his eyes, sputtering out a number, "o-one"

"hmm." his grip doesn't falter, instead he turns your face side to side peering at all your features. "would you look at this, you actually have a desireable face."

you didn't know wether to take it as a compliment or an insult.

he finally lets go, "okay, have him drawn in quarterd. i want him out of my sight."

you gulped, guilt shredding at your heart as the man screamed. now you felt responsible for his punishment, though you suspect he would have done anything he liked anyways.

as usual.

the prince kisses your palm bringing you back to the present, he's been like this lately too. becoming affectionate in private spaces ( and in public spaces ), insisting you dote on him, care for him and play good girl all while you face the consequences ( many people think you're secretly sleeping with him, though hes met his suitor many times )

"what are you thinking of, tell me your thoughts love."

you gulped, "well honestly my prince i was thinking this is highly inappropriate and that your should stop so that the both of us will avoid trouble, and also—"

the prince stops kissing you, darkened eyes glaring at you viciously. "[Name]" he said suddenly.

you gulp, regretting your decision to speak up immediately.

"you're perfect, okay? i need you to continue being perfect so that everyone here stays happy alright?" you nod. "and i told you to stop calling me that."

"i-i apologize my-sorry um, Anul."

Anul grins and shifts his body to sit upwards, "good, now come here." he motions to his lap and you sigh, as of the past few weeks this was common as well. he pats his thigh impatiently and you smooth down your skirt to move towards him. his arms are around you before you can even make it on him, his nose grazing your neck, "mm, perfect, all mine, so perfect."

you sigh again and fold your hands over your lap, you wouldn't deny this prince was comfortable to sit on but it was not only highly unprofessional but horribly nerve racking.

you were just glad nobody was in here to see it.

and just then a knock came from the door. you scramble to move but Anul hold on fast, "come in." his voice was like murky water compared to how he was speaking to you before.

another servant maid opens the door, looking at your turned down face for a moment before adressing her reason for being here. "uhm, [Name] has been requested in the chambers by Ms. Jalei just for a quick meeting." Ms. Jalei was the head of all thr maids in the palace.

Anul looks bored at her. "She's busy." and quickly turns back to you, but the maid hasnt left yet.

she clears her throat again, "it's umh, it's urgent." she say looking at you and the man, his arms tighten around your waist. "[Name]? what should i do? seems likes there another pest trying to disturb our peace. number, 1-1,000" the maid freezes up, even she knew was this meant.

your eyes went wide as you looked at him, god not this again. "I-I don't want her to get hurt."

"Oh how sweet. Don't worry she won't feel a thing." Anul smiles devilishly. The maid looks ready to cry.

You turned between them, you hears what happened with the other guy, you didn't know who this was but you certianly didn't want her to get hurt, not because she f you anyways.

"w-what can i do? to fix it, i don't think she deserves such a punishment. it's me there asking for anyways, so what should i do?" you pleaded.

that caught his attention, "What you can do...?" He thought for a moment, "You. Get out."

The door was such in seconds.

"ya' know ever since i've met you [Name] i've just been so much better, i'd really love it if you gave me a kiss. I think i deserve it dont you?"

you gulped, you saw something like this coming, you were prepared. you gave a small okay and Anul shifted so you were sitting on his crotch rather than his lap. "okay here i go." and placed the tiniest contact on his lips he almost missed it.

he blinked, "what was that."

"well, i just kisses you my prince. as you requested."

"that wasn't a kiss."

"well—" you don't get a chance to answer as he cups your mouth with his, your tounge sliding on the roof of his mouth, by the time he's finished you can barely breath. his hands had someway crawled themselves onto your side and he found himself craving you, needing you carnally and more than ever. he lets go.

"that was a kiss, and don't make me teach you again."

[pyrodolls]

imagine all the yandere monsters in your village obsessed with you, the only human

naturally, you are seen as the monarch of the village. the only thing every creature can agree on, is that they love and respect you. even though you're not really interested in any of them.

THE WEREWOLF is the most aggressive of the creatures within the village. he’s the one that everyone fears. he isn’t the strongest, but he’s the one that never backs down from a fight. he’s the one that would shed anyone’s blood in your name without hesitation. he’s the one that doesn’t even try to hide the disgusted look in his eyes that flashes every time you lend someone else your kindness and attention. he always fantasizes about ripping them to shreds and carrying you away to safety.

he's boastful, and loud. he constantly challenges others to fights-- especially in front of you. he thinks you'll be impressed by his strength, and the more he shows off and wins fights, he'll also win your heart. he'd rip some poor nymph to shreds and hold the heart up to you, hoping you'll be proud of him and spare at least a glance his way. maybe even say he did a good job or perhaps tell him that he's oh so strong and courageous.

if only you treated him as more than a lapdog. if only you looked at him with the same adoration that he looks at you with. he’ll glare at everyone but you. he’ll ignore and growl at everyone he sees, because they're not you.

his infatuation with you is more than a respect for your royalty. deep down, he yearns to be by your side. he doesn’t need the power that you have, just as long as he’s the one with you. as long as he’s the only one that can stay with you and protect you from harm. he’ll stand at your guard for hours if you requested him to do so. he’ll happily accept your request with a rare sway to his tail.

he needs to be your guard. he needs to make sure you’re safe at all times or else he will deem himself worthless. with his sharp teeth, long claws and piercing stare, almost anyone would be frightened by the giant, aggressive werewolf at your side.

but no matter how rough and tough he acts; he’ll always crumble the second your hand raises up to his head to scratch or pat him on the head.

THE HARPY is the one that lusts after you the most. she's raunchy, easygoing, and mischievous. plus, of all the creatures, the harpy is the bluntest. she’ll gleefully and casually mention to you all of her wicked fantasies. every morning, she flies around trying to find you, and once she does, she goes on and on about the things she’s imagined you two doing. the other creatures are far more ashamed of their urges, thinking that they’re dirtying your image as their monarch. but the harpy? she doesn’t give a flying fuck if you’re the ruler or a peasant. she’s imagined your body in thousands of ways, none of them have to do with your status.

even though you have always rejected her advances, she’s always going to keep trying. she’s convinced that you’re just shy and in denial of your feelings. she’s convinced that you’re destined to be hers. she started doing outlandish things to catch your attention and get you out of your shell. she started physically touching you more, such as kissing your cheek and laying on your lap. she thinks you're in love with her, no matter how many times you blatantly tell her that you're not interested.

she revels in the other creatures’ jealousy and hatred of her. she knows the others only think of her as a dirty harlot, ruining the valiant image of their ruler. but she couldn't care less about what others think. she barely even cares what you think. she knows what she wants, and nobody will stop her from getting it. not even you.

THE FAIRY is the most envious of them all. fairies are known for being small and weak. he knew you weren't going to like him. that's why he desperately tried to get your approval the moment he met you. he always leaves you small gifts and watches from afar as you collect them, hoping that it'll be something that you enjoy. he knows that pixies are generally the ones that leave small gifts, but he had to find some way to gain your favor. he's only 6 inches tall and could easily be stomped on by the other creatures. so that means he isn't strong, or incredibly intelligent, or immortal. he has nothing going for him compared to the others, so all he can do is be as kind as possible to you.

deep down, he's aware that he doesn't stand a chance. but he keeps trying. he knows he loves you more than any of the other creatures can say. he would be kind to you. he would follow your every command. he would do whatever you want him to do. he just wants you. it doesn't matter how you treat him or what you do to him. sure, if you hurt him, he won't be very happy about it, but he'll still be grateful that you even looked his way and gave him a chance.

he's usually very friendly and giving towards others, and especially to you, but behind closed doors, he's cruel towards those that you show love and affection to. he knows it's wrong. he knows you would probably be mad at him for his behavior. but he can't help it. everyone else is so much bigger and stronger than he is. deep down, he knows they could protect and take care of you better than he can. so, his inferiority complex shifts into anger that he takes out onto them. and if they happen to snitch on him, he'll just start fake crying. you'd comfort him and tell him everything's okay, because you trust him! he's the one that is so small, gentle, and always gifts you, so he'd never do anything wrong...

THE VAMPIRE has a strategy to winning you over. she's one of the eldest, most intelligent and calculated creatures in the village. over the course of the couple thousand years that she's been alive, she never had any romantic interest in anyone until she met you. you changed something in her. she's always been very formal, and polite, but you awoke something new in her. something... possessive and perhaps even controlling. after meeting you, she suddenly had the urge to take care of you. as she unfortunately cannot be in the sun, so she watches you from afar. follows you from a distance, making sure you are safe. she's ready to step in as soon as she needs to, in order to protect you.

she's more likely to take a friendlier, respectful approach compared to others. unlike the vulgar harpy, or the overly submissive fairy, she's more formal and respects your authority as their leader. every night, she walks around your house and if you happen to come out, she pretends she was "on her way home" and says that it "would be a lovely time to go for a walk" and you assume she was telling the truth.

the best part about having a plan such as hers, is that the other creatures have no idea that she's interested in you. they go to her for advice and try to ask for her help in courting you. they trust her, not knowing she'll ruin them once she knows their plans in wooing you. and they'll never know that it was her, because she's the beautiful older woman in the village that has never caused any problems! everyone loves her. and soon, you will too.

she's patient. everyone else is in such a rush to make you theirs immediately, but she knows you're worth waiting for. she knows that in the end, she'll come out on top, and you'll be hers. all she must do is wait.

THE ELF is one of the shyest. she's looked down upon in the village for being too timid and messy. with frizzy hair, pointy ears, and a dreadful fashion sense, she stays in her dingy little shack in the woods, crafting weapons and houseware to sell to the villagers. every month, she begrudgingly makes her visit to the village's market to display and sell her things, then go straight back home. she dreads seeing others, feeling safe only in the solitude of the quiet woods.

she always knew of a human monarch ruling over the land, but she didn't bother investigating for herself. she wanted to just make and sell her goods, then lurk in the outskirts of the village in peace. but one day, you just happened to be at her usual selling place.

she dropped all her items in a few baskets, standing by ready to give them away. that's when you approached, offering a generous sum of money to purchase items that were rumored to "be of high quality" from the other villagers. the second she saw you, her heart almost stopped. she knew the monarch was supposed to be beautiful, but she wasn't aware you were going to look that good. she quickly and awkwardly wrapped the items in leaves, handing them to you and feeling her heart skip a beat when your fingers brushed against hers. she thanked you, bowing her head so you wouldn't see how red her pale skin became. you simply walked away without saying anything else.

she replayed that moment over and over again in her head on her journey back home. should she have said something else? should she have refused your money or given you more items? should she have wrapped your items in something fancier than random leaves she picked from the forest? god, you probably think she's a loser now. you probably dislike her just as much as everyone else does. she maybe even offended you, because she didn't recognize you at first.

she spent that whole night rethinking her entire life choices. and the night after that. and the night after that. and that whole week. and the next week. then the next. until it was time to sell her things again. this time, she would be prepared for your arrival.

she spent that month lurking around the village, overhearing the things people said about you. she never knew there was so much competition to win your heart! she'd definitely have to study your interests to win you over.

every day, she peeked into your castle and carefully inspected your bedroom. she studied your clothes, hair, accessories, decorations, and more. she took note of it all, storing it in her memory to use later in order to impress you and show that she would be the best candidate for your affections.

when the day came for her to publicly return to the village, she made sure her hair was nicely put together, instead of the usual frizzy look. she made sure her clothes weren't so tattered and dirty, and she was wearing your favorite color. she made sure her goods were clean and wrapped nicely in cloth that she sewed herself, based on the designs on your castle's carpet.

she waited and waited. the usual customers came by, surprised that she seemed more put together-- but she didn't spare them a single glance. she was just looking for you. where were you? did you not like her goods? or maybe her initial thoughts were correct: her first impression was so terrible that you hate her, and you'll never see her again.

it was late at night, way past her curfew. she was packing her things ready to return home and cry herself to sleep after you didn't show up. until she finally spotted you in the distance, walking next to the vampire lady.

she felt her face go red in embarrassment. what was she even thinking? of course you're into someone else. she spent an entire month obsessing over you to the point where she mended her appearance to impress you and maybe get you to spend more time with her. but it was all for naught, wasn't it?

but maybe... she can keep trying. she put in so much effort. she tried so hard to EARN your approval, instead of trying to seduce you like that old ass vampire. she's never felt this way for anyone before. she hates everyone else. she hates talking to people, spending time with people. they've never liked her anyway. but you didn't hate her. you just purchased her goods with an incredible amount of money and never insulted her or raised a single finger on her. she'll never forget that. she'll always be grateful for that. in return, she'll make herself better for you. she'll change, and you'll be nice to her again... maybe even love her just as much as she loves you... right?

THE MERMAN is one of the cutest, yet the most codependent and manipulative of them all. he's just a defenseless merman; he can't go on land! you'll have to visit him every day and talk to him, or else he'll go mad. you can't leave him alone for a single day, because he has no other friends. that would be so rude of you.

every day, he sits and waits for you, posing prettily on the biggest rock on the beach. if anyone were to flirt or try to talk to him, he'd usually roll his eyes and swim away. he has a bit of a reputation for being the most handsome creature out of everyone else in the village. but no matter how many villagers attempt to charm him, none of them have ever caught his eye. in fact, they often leave the beach crying in despair after he rejects them with no remorse or kindness. he'll insult them and bluntly tell them he would never be interested in them.

because you're the only one he wants.

he sees your riches. your beauty. your power and intelligence. he's attracted to all of it. he fantasizes every day about being with you. he knows that you're human and you can't be with him all day, but he can't bare being away from you for so long! he's tried multiple times to crawl on land, but he just can't do it without fainting and being carried back to the sea by one of his fellow merfolk.

he begs you to spend as much time as you can with him. he is overjoyed the moment he sees you walking towards his spot at the beach. he starts squealing and splashing around, doing a few tricks to impress you. he immediately starts bombarding you with questions, asking how you are and what you're doing later, subtly wrapping his tail around your arm so you can't walk away. he talks to you nonstop, trying to make you stay. he knows you are royalty, and you have your duties, but they can't be more important than him.

every time you even hint at leaving, he starts getting emotional. what do you mean you're leaving soon? don't you know what you mean to him? you know you're his only connection to the outside world and the land. you're one of his only friends. you can't just leave him. don't you know how much he cares about you? don't you know how many people he's rejected for you? don't you know how many hours he spent combing through his hair with a fork he found lying washed up on the sand? don't you know how many hours he spent trying to polish his scales, making them shinier to catch your eye? he tried so hard to look all pretty for you, and now you're just going to leave?

wait, you'll come back tomorrow? oh, okay. well, why didn't you just say that sooner? just don't keep him waiting too long. even though you're leaving, he'll stay lying on his rock, staring at your castle with a longing look in his teary eyes, waiting for your return.